


it ends and starts here

by croissantbleu



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: (implied) - Freeform, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Anxiety, Depression, Dimension Travel, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Tags Contain Spoilers, Witches, gay interdimensional longing, interdimensional love story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-17 15:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21056519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/croissantbleu/pseuds/croissantbleu
Summary: It can’t have been more than half an hour before he stops again, ducking under a low branch to step into a hidden small clearing, perfectly circular as far as Pat can tell, a ring of white mushrooms in the middle. He knows enough paranormal stories to vaguely remember people say these are either summoning circles or interdimensional portals, depending on which version you believe. It’s all just bullshit, as far as he’s concerned, he’s never believed in any of this stuff, and that’s exactly why he is walking towards the mushrooms and stepping into the circle.And, of course, nothing happens. There’s a feeling of satisfaction in his chest, knowing he was right all along. He likes reading and hearing these stories about ghosts and magic but that’s all they are- stories. That’s all they will ever be. He chuckles a little to himself, brushes the hair away from his eyes and puts his hands in his pockets before leaving the ring.Except- he doesn’t.





	1. Part One

Pat isn’t always sure if the never-changing routine is comforting or participating in the sentiment that he’s always missing something. He doesn’t mind, not really, he’s fine with just going to work and hanging out with coworkers - hell, he’s very lucky to even have a stable enough job and a decent place to live in, considering the economy. Especially in such a big city. He gets nostalgic, sometimes, of how much simpler things were at home, and he gets the occasional homesick days where he doesn’t really see the point in getting out of bed but does anyway because he has bills to pay, and rent isn’t cheap. He doesn’t mind, really, he doesn’t hate his job and he doesn’t hate the people he works with, he just finds himself staring out the window more than he probably should, with the faint feeling that he’s not where he’s supposed to be.

He shakes his head and looks back at his computer screen. That’s a stupid way of thinking, he tells himself as he tries to focus on his work, nobody is where they’re supposed to be, not under capitalism, that’s not how it works. And yet. He can’t shake the impression, can merely tune it down until it’s barely a whisper, echoing quietly at the back of his brain. That’s good enough for him, lets him concentrate on everything else. 

Simone smiles at him when she walks by his desk and he gives her a little wave. His friends never notice, or if they have they’ve never said anything. Not that they don’t pay attention, he’s just gotten really good at pretending nothing is bothering him, and that’s not completely wrong. Well, friends - more like colleagues he hangs out with from time to time, really, Simone is the only one he can really call his friend. They both started here on the same day and kind of held onto each other for moral support, and two years later, not much has changed. Truth be told, Pat isn’t sure he would have lasted as long here without her, she’s the one who helped him get out of his shell a little and made him face the world a bit more head-on, which he desperately needed. He still isn’t great at it, honestly, but he’s already a long way from where he started.

He wishes Wednesdays weren’t so long, though, they always feel just- never ending, hours going by excruciatingly slowly, as if the universe couldn’t bring itself to get to the second half of the week. He glances at the time and holds back a frustrated huff. He should know better by now than to check every five minutes, but he can’t help it when every minute feels like ten. But he can’t exactly just sit there and watch the seconds go, so he gets back to work.

He lets out a sigh of relief when he steps out of the building, wincing a little when a cold raindrop lands on his cheek after he’s taken just a few steps. There are heavy clouds looming over his head when he looks up, and he tells himself he should hurry to the subway station before the storm breaks, but he stays there, not finding the will to move for a moment. It passes in a minute, when the clouds open and the rain starts falling, hard, and he swears under his breath and starts running towards the subway stairs.

He’s drenched by the time he gets home, the umbrella against the wall mocking him as he locks the door. He knew he was forgetting something this morning. Not that it matters now. He shrugs, puts on some music to drown out the silence, and heads for the shower. 

The routine is comforting, he decides later, when he’s having dinner in front of whatever program is on TV - he doesn’t really care, just appreciates the semblance of life it brings to the flat. It’s so simple to let himself get caught in a pattern, not always having to think about what comes next because it rarely varies, it sure is a lot easier on his anxiety. He doesn’t do too well with change, never has, and he’s not quite sure how he has managed to adapt to the city so well - but then he remembers the hell that were the first few weeks here and, yeah, that took some time. 

He spends a while half automatically scrolling on Twitter before his eyes catch on a picture of a forest. There’s nothing special about it, really, just trees and moss and a ray of sunshine illuminating the scene through the leaves. God, he misses the sun. It feels like the sky has been nothing but cloudy and heavy lately and he’s getting sick of the constant grey blanket over his head. It’s been a while since he’s left the city, he realizes. Maybe he could get away this weekend, just escape in the woods for the day. He could ask Simone if she wanted to come with him, even if she’d probably decline the invitation. Yeah, he would do that, he thinks as he gets up and puts away the dishes before heading to bed.

Some fresh air would be good for him.

Thursday and Friday pass, the same as always, every hour resembling the next, and it feels like time is moving too slowly to be bearable. Pat is glad he’s going away from the city for the day, he needs a break from the looming buildings and the grey clouds covering everything. 

He gets in the car, boots up the itinerary, and starts driving. He briefly regrets that Simone decided to stay behind, but he gets it. Work has been busy lately, she probably has better things to do than spending a day hiking in the woods. And he doesn’t mind being alone, he’s never really had a problem with it - or he’s just used to it. He puts some music on, quietly singing along as he continues driving.

It doesn’t take more than an hour and a half before he steps out of the car and takes a deep breath. The air already feels better here, crisp against his cheeks and easier to breathe, and there is the shadow of a smile on his face when he grabs his backpack and starts walking along the path in the middle of the trees.

It’s early in the morning, sky still painted in soft colours and birds singing happily, notes echoing in the silence, otherwise only disturbed by the crunching of leaves under Pat’s steps. It’s nice, not being surrounded by all the loud sounds of cars and buses and sirens, but it's a bit strange in a way he can't explain. He keeps going for a while, couldn’t really tell for how long, too lost in the moment to think of checking the time. 

He walks until he reaches a pond and sits near the edge, stretching his legs in front of him with a quiet groan. He didn’t notice the burning sensation that started to spread in his calves until right now. It’s pretty out here, though, the way the trees reflect onto the water, so still that it would look like a giant mirror apart from the occasional ripple caused by an insect or the gentle breeze. He stays there for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, before his eyes catch on a glint amongst the pebbles a little further away. He caves in to curiosity and stands up, letting out a grimace at the way his back cracks, getting closer until he sees a small black stone angled to catch the light in just the right way. He picks it up, turns it around a few times in the palm of his hand. It has too many sharp angles to be a pebble, maybe some kind of crystal? He would have to ask Simone, she knows surprisingly a lot about all of this. He pockets it carefully, making sure it doesn’t risk falling out, and walks back under the trees.

It can’t have been more than half an hour before he stops again, ducking under a low branch to step into a hidden small clearing, perfectly circular as far as Pat can tell, a ring of white mushrooms in the middle. He knows enough paranormal stories to vaguely remember people say these are either summoning circles or interdimensional portals, depending on which version you believe. It’s all just bullshit, as far as he’s concerned, he’s never believed in any of this stuff, and that’s exactly why he is walking towards the mushrooms and stepping into the circle.

And, of course, nothing happens. There’s a feeling of satisfaction in his chest, knowing he was right all along. He likes reading and hearing these stories about ghosts and magic but that’s all they are- stories. That’s all they will ever be. He chuckles a little to himself, brushes the hair away from his eyes and puts his hands in his pockets before leaving the ring.

Except- he doesn’t. He blinks, and when his foot hits the ground he’s not in the small clearing anymore. He’s somewhere else entirely. He starts to look around, frantically, fighting back the panic he feels building up. There has to be an explanation, a rational one something,  _ anything _ , to explain what just happened. But there isn’t.

He doesn’t feel himself falling until his knees hit the ground and he puts his hand forward by reflex to keep himself from crashing down face first. He can’t do anything but stare at the grass, blood rushing in his ears and too many thoughts whirling around in his mind, too fast for him to be able to focus on any of them.

It takes a moment before he can catch his breath, the ringing in his ears finally subsiding enough that he doesn’t feel like screaming just to drown out the noise. He’s just dreaming, he tells himself, he has to have fallen asleep next to the pond earlier, and now he’s stuck in a weird dream. He just needs to see it through. So he stands up slowly, takes a deep breath, and heads down the path on his left. He keeps going, forcing himself not to focus on anything but the sound of his steps and the wind blowing through the leaves, one feet in front of the other until he takes a turn and sees houses emerging from behind the trees.

There’s a wave of relief washing over him before he realizes it, and he walks a little faster, eager to get some answers and find his way home. That’s all he wants right now - to go home, have some tea, and take a nap. He figures he’s earned that much. He ducks into an alleyway between two buildings, following the voices he can faintly hear in the distance for a few minutes, and emerges on what looks like a town’s square, complete with a fountain in the middle. Someone spots him and smiles warmly, walking up to him.

“Hey, are you new? I’m Jenna, I use she/her pronouns.”

Pat only notices then the way her hair is shorter on the side, and he attempts a small wave back, going to introduce himself when he sees someone else in the background. Just, levitating. He’s dreaming, he tells himself again immediately, he’s obviously dreaming. That’s comforting, in a way, he was starting to think he was in trouble - but if he really is just dreaming then everything’s fine. 

But Jenna carefully places a hand on his shoulder, asking if he’s alright, and everything is too  _ real  _ to be a simple product of his imagination, and he would scream but the bubble of panic in his chest that he’s kept small since he’s arrived here finally explodes and now he can’t remember how to breathe anymore. He just stumbles back, one step, two, before his legs are shaking too much to keep him standing and he finds himself on the floor again, gasping for air while his brain has turned into an incoherent mess. He vaguely makes out Jenna pointing someone else towards one of the houses nearby before his eyes close on their own volition and he can’t get them open anymore, can’t see, can’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears so loud he could cry.

There’s someone next to him suddenly, the lightest touch on his elbow, then delicately taking his hand to place some kind of rock in his palm and close his fingers over it. It’s rough, asperities digging into his skin and slowly grounding him back into reality. He opens his eyes, still unable to hear, to find someone closely watching him, bright eyes and kind smile, and handing him a cup filled with a deep purple liquid. Pat must still be pretty out of it because he takes the cup with a shaking hand and drinks it all, warmth almost instantly settling in his stomach and easing out the tension in his shoulders, only slightly but enough to make it almost bearable. 

His throat hurts when he clears it, tentatively searching the grey eyes in front of him for any kind of answer.

“Sorry,” he croaks, a coughing fit taking over him for a second. 

“Nothing to apologize for,” there’s a genuine gentleness in this voice that makes Pat want to curl up and sob, but he can’t so he focuses on the stupid mustache above it instead. “Do you want to go inside for a moment? You’d be more comfortable on a chair than on the floor. Oh, and I’m Brian, by the way, he/him pronouns,” he adds as he stands up, offering Pat a hand.

He takes it and Brian helps him up.

“Sure, thank you. And, uh, I’m Patrick. Pat. He/him too.”

“Cool,” Brian grins, more openly. “I’m in the house just around that corner, come on. I’m guessing you have a lot of questions, we can talk about all of that with some tea or something.”

Pat just nods and follows him. He’s still feeling a lot calmer than he usually would and he suspects the drink Brian gave him is at least part of the reason why. Not that he minds, right now he’s even quite thankful for it. He’s not sure he could handle any more weird things otherwise. Brian pushes a wooden door open with his shoulder and walks in, hurrying through a door leading to the back of the room as Pat steps in, examining the place. It’s a big room, wood counters and tables covered by a hundred plants and crystals and varying kinds of bowls and pots and glass jars. There’s a gorgeous round table in the middle, half covered in books and papers, silver veins running through the dark wood like they were a part of the tree it came from. 

“Sorry about the mess!” Brian calls out, rushing back in, a bashful look on his face. “I got uh, a little overwhelmed lately, it’s not usually  _ that  _ bad I swear. Come on, this one is less shameful,” he adds, motionning Pat to go back to the other room.

It is less shameful, he thinks as he walks in, if only by a little bit. It’s much smaller, for a start, a massive unlit fireplace taking up most of the back wall, faced by a couch and a chair, a spiral staircase in the right corner almost hidden by a bookshelf.

“Don’t let that fool you,” Brian says when he sees him looking at it. “I’ve read all of these and they’re mostly written badly, but also mostly spell books. And cooking books. Nothing thrilling.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Pat says, deadpan, “I love reading cooking books for fun, where else would I find such literature?”

That makes Brian chuckle and he invites him to take a seat, placing a steaming mug in Pat’s hands as soon as he has settled in the couch, Brian sitting sideways in the chair to face him.

“So,” he says, blowing air on his mug. “About these questions.”

Pat lets out a long sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. “I wouldn’t know where to start, honestly.”

“Yeah, I can understand,” Brian tilts his head to the right just slightly. “Alright, I’ll start then. You’re not from here, I assume?”

“I don’t even know where here is,” Pat shakes his head, nervous laughter slipping past his lips. “What’s for sure is that we don’t have magic.”

“Yeah, that’s a pretty good clue,” he hums. “How did you get here then?”

“I- I don’t know, it’s stupid, I just walked into a mushroom circle and when I tried to leave I just… wasn’t in the same place anymore?”

“A ring of white mushrooms?” Brian asks, leaning forward like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Pat frowns a little when Brian stands up and starts pacing in front of the fireplace. “What’s wrong?”

“That means the portals are open again,” he says, more to himself than to Pat, running a hand through his hair. “I thought- they’ve been closed for so long, we always thought they were done for good after- sorry, I’ll explain,” he gives Pat an apologetic smile and sits back in the chair, breathing in deeply. “Okay, so- we used to have portals between your…  _ world  _ and mine. “World” isn’t really the correct term for it,” he mimes the quotation marks, “but, yeah, we can talk about that later. We usually avoided them, mostly because, as you’ll know, it’s super disorienting and stressful, but at least you could always step right back into the ring and be back home in a minute. Until like, five years ago now, a friend of mine walked in the portal and just… never came back. Nobody’s been able to use any of the portals since - well, apart from you obviously.”

Pat stays quiet for a while, trying to take it all in. He wants to ask about whoever would be stuck in his world, but he’s seen the way Brian’s face tensed up when he mentioned it, so he doesn’t. 

“Can you… can you help me go home?” he asks instead.

Ah, there it is again, that pure gentleness in Brian’s expression when he looks at him, the corner of his lips lifted up so slightly he could think it’s a trick of the light.

“Of course,” he says, and the tension in Pat’s shoulders melts away. “I’ll do everything I can.”

“Thank you,” Pat smiles, for the first time since he got here.

Maybe longer than that, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

“In the meantime,” Brian stretches as he stands up again, “you’re welcome to stay here. I’ve got a spare room up there I can set up for you in just a minute.”

“Thank you,” Pat repeats, “so much. Is there anything I can help out with?”

“Oh! Yeah, if you can lend me a hand with the shop sometimes, it’s nothing big but I’ll have to do a lot of research, probably, and I can have a tendency to get overwhelmed and disorganized,” he grimaces.

“Sure! No problem at all. What kind of shop?”

Brian’s answer is interrupted by a crashing noise in the other room and he lets out a long string of swears before rushing out. Pat hears him vehemently reprimanding someone, followed by a few seconds of silence, and he can’t help but laugh when Brian walks back in, holding a black and white cat in his arms.

“I should introduce you,” he sounds exasperated, but there’s amusement in his eyes. “This is Zuko, the bastard neighbourhood cat who will steal my food and crystals and keeps munching on all my plants when he thinks I’m not looking. I know he looks cute,” he adds, lifting Zuko closer to look into his eyes, “but he’s the most vicious hellspawn in town.” The cat bats a paw and hits him on the cheek, just merely missing his glasses. “And he just proved my point! Get out of here, you rascal,” Brian sets him down and Zuko dashes to the open window. “And leave my rosemary alone!”

“I think you’re too hard on him,” Pat says, biting back a smile. “He’s obviously just a plant enthusiast and you’re getting in the way of his passion.”

It’s difficult not to laugh at the face he gets in response, Brian looking so offended he forgets how to speak for a second. There’s something about him that makes Pat feel oddly at ease, and it might just be the lingering effects of that tea he had, but it’s a new and welcome feeling either way.

“Don’t you dare take his defence, Patrick,” Brian points an accusatory finger. “I don’t want to have to kick you out, because that would attract bad energies and I don’t need that, but I can’t have anyone taking his side over mine.”

Pat puts his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I will not say anything about it in your presence.”

“You know what? Fair, okay, I’ll take it. Okay, I have to go clean up the mess he made now,” he sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

“Wait, you never answered my question. What kind of shop is this supposed to be?”

Brian throws him a wide grin just before he walks through the door. “A witch’s shop, of course.”

Of course. Pat lets his head fall against the back of the couch and chuckles quietly, before getting up to go help him.

Brian is surprisingly good at making him feel better about this whole thing over the evening, giving him enough time to process everything without letting him fall into apathy, mostly keeping him distracted with an extensive list of why cats - and Zuko in particular - can’t ever be trusted. Pat is suddenly glad they’re not in his world, he fears what would happen if he had access to PowerPoint.

He introduces him to a few friends the next day, insisting that he doesn’t want him in the way while he’s doing his research (Pat objects that he could use the time to put some order back into the shop, and Brian just shoots him a falsely offended look and says he’s not even going to answer that), and that he’d rather know he’s in good company instead of wandering alone in the woods. Pat isn’t sure why that makes him feel some type of way, but it does, and he’s not going to question it too much.

He’s slightly nervous, walking inside the tavern, but Brian gives him a comforting smile before heading straight towards one of the tables. Pat recognizes the girl from yesterday, what was her name? Jenna? Yes, Jenna.

“I knew you’d all be here,” he claims, and Pat can hear the grin in his voice without even seeing his face. “You’re all so predictable. Anyways, say hello to Patrick Gill, he arrived through a portal yesterday and you’re all on being nice duty until I figure out how to get him home.”

“Just Pat is fine,” he smiles awkwardly, because of course he does. 

For a second, he’s worried that Jenna will bring up what happened yesterday, and he’s pretty embarrassed about it and would rather pretend he could forget all about it. But she just gives him an encouraging look as she introduces herself again, and he can feel a wave of gratitude wash over him. Everyone else says their name too, and there’s Clayton, Allegra, Jonah, and Laura - who he already knew was Brian’s sister, he’d told him about her the previous day.

“You really think you can open the portals again?” Jenna asks, like she doesn’t want to let herself believe it. “We all tried for months and nothing happened. Not that I want to sound pessimistic, Pat,” she adds, shooting him an apologetic look, “it’s just…”

“Yeah, it doesn’t look too good right now,” he says, and his laugh sounds more bitter than he intended it to.

“That was years ago,” Brian countered. “I’m obviously a lot stronger now,” he winks, and everyone else rolls their eyes. Laura mumbles that they all know he’s the most powerful witch around, he doesn’t need to keep reminding them, but he ignores her. “And anyway, something has to have changed or Pat wouldn’t be here right now. The portal’s closed again, I checked, but that means it’s possible to open them again. I just have to find how,” he shrugs, like it’s no big deal.

“Makes sense,” Allegra nods. 

“Thank you,” Brian smirks smugly and another round of eyerolls follow. “Okay, not that I don’t like y’all but I do have a bunch of work to do, be nice!” he calls out as he starts walking backwards, heading for the door.

“It’s pretty cool out here, you’ll see,” Jenna smiles at Pat once Brian’s gone, and he can’t really remember the last time he’s felt so safe surrounded by a bunch of strangers. “Think of it as a little vacation. And, don’t tell him I said that because he’ll never let me live it down, but if anyone can figure this thing out, it’s probably Brian.”

“Oh she’s right, but definitely don’t tell him,” Jonah laughs. “He’s annoying enough with this “best witch of the region” thing,” he adds, miming the air quotes with his hands.

“What’s that about?” Pat asks, taking a seat on the empty chair between Jenna and Clayton.

Laura shrugs. “A while back, there was a kind of… contest, I guess? All in good fun, but basically the point was to see who was the most powerful witch and Brian just… annihilated any competition,” she raises her eyebrows in emphasis. “I can say that because he’s not here. I mean, we all have our strengths and weaknesses, right, like I’m pretty good at divination and, full offense, Brian kinda  _ sucks  _ at it, and Jenna’s great at talking with animals, yeah?” Jenna smiles and does a little flourish as a thanks. “But Brian’s stupidly talented at almost everything across the board, and honestly I have to say he’s the best spellcaster I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah,” Jenna nods. “His spells are real powerful.”

“It’s so unfair,” Allegra groans. “I’m not even a witch and I’m still annoyed by how easy it is for him.”

The subject shifts, and before he knows it, Pat is laughing along to everyone’s jokes and stories. He’s a little awkward, still, listening more than he talks, but as far as introductions go, this has to be in the top three most successful ones. 

Jenna walks back to Brian’s house with him, later in the evening.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” she says after a few seconds of silence. “After yesterday, I mean. I wasn’t going to mention it in front of the others, but… yeah. I knew you’d be in good hands with Brian, but still.”

“Thank you,” Pat smiles a little. “For not bringing it up, I mean, that wasn’t my finest moment,” he grimaces. “And… for caring, I guess? Sorry for worrying you though.” 

Jenna laughs. “It’s fine, it’s not your fault. I’m just happy you’re doing better. I can only imagine the shock it was, appearing here. But, hey, if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here! And I mean that, so please don’t hesitate, alright?”

“Alright,” he smiles warmly. “Thank you, again.”

“Don’t mention it,” she waves a hand dismissively. “We’re all in this together, might as well support each other when we can. Alright, this is you then,” she nods towards the heavy door of Brian’s place. “I’ll see you around!”

“Sure,” Pat grins. “It was nice seeing all of you, thanks again!” he waves as he pushes open the door and walks inside.

Brian greets him with dirt on his cheek and a rosemary branch in his hair, and Pat just shakes his head as he points it out, biting back a laugh at the face Brian makes.

Time feels different here, and Pat knows it’s just a trick of the mind, but it feels like he’s been here both for ages and for five minutes, even if it has been just a few weeks. There’s a weird sense of… comfort almost, about this place, that he can’t quite explain or understand, and it doesn’t take away from the ache that’s settled in his stomach whenever he thinks of home and the people back there who must be wondering where he is - his family and Simone, really, that’s who he feels bad about - but it does alleviate it just slightly enough that it’s bearable, sometimes. He is surprised by how much he misses his family, they have never exactly been super close and they honestly don’t talk a whole lot, but he finds himself wanting to call his sister or his parents more times than he’d like to admit.

He shouldn’t be surprised that being around people helps, it’s not because he didn’t do it before that he didn’t know it was the right thing, but he keeps finding himself taken aback by how genuinely  _ nice  _ everyone is, without expecting him to do anything in return. It’s… new. Not unpleasant though.

He spends time with the group a lot, at first mostly because he didn’t really know what else to do and he didn’t want to stay in Brian’s way, but now he just enjoys hanging out with all of them. They’ve told him a lot about this world, and he’s talked at length about his.

_ (“Wait,” Allegra frowns. “People have to pay to have help getting better? What if they can’t?” _

_ “Either they don’t seek the help they need, or they’re in debt for a long time,” Pat sighs. _

_ “What kind of hell is this?” Jonah seems horrified. _

_ Pat shrugs. “Capitalist America. And capitalism in general. Some of us are trying to work to make things better but, yeah. Hell describes it pretty well right now.”) _

There aren’t that many differences between them actually, apart from the obvious ones like the whole magic thing and the way their societies work, much more focused on helping each other out as best they can and working together instead of against each other. But in general, the places themselves were quite similar - Pat recognizes a lot of the plants and animals, and he’s sure he’s seen a bunch of these stones and crystals back home. He should ask Brian about it at some point, he’s very curious about the relationship between the two worlds, he just hasn’t quite found the right time to ask yet.

He’s convinced Brian to let him do the cooking, though, which was a big victory in itself. Not that he was too hard to persuade, he caved him pretty easily after Pat complained about his food crimes a few times - he’s lucky Pat loves to cook, and even more when it’s not just for him.

“What are you making?” Brian jumps to sit on the counter next to him while he’s cooking.

“Egg bake,” Pat says, carefully watching the pan.

“Hell yeah, breakfast food! My parents used to make us breakfast food for dinner when we behaved,” he sounds too happy when he says that, swinging his legs, and maybe there’s the hint of a smile playing on Pat’s lips.

“Knowing you and Laura, I’m guessing that wasn’t very often,” he comments.

“Yeah,” Brian laughs easily, “Not wrong there. My brother, Patrick, was the most sensible one out of all of us. Oh! Is that a Pat thing? Were you the more sensible one too?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “I think we were both pretty chill, honestly, at least when our parents were there. They were always so busy, y’know? Didn’t want to bother them more.”

He doesn’t even have to see him to feel Brian looking at him intently, but he pretends he doesn’t notice. There isn’t much more to say anyway, he thinks, like he doesn’t feel the knot forming in his stomach. For a moment he wonders if Brian is going to push it, and he’s not really sure how he’d feel about that.

“I’m going to prep some spells later,” he says instead, and Pat holds back a relieved sigh. “If you want to join? I’ll fill you in on what I found for you so far, as well.”

“Sure,” Pat looks up at him. There’s something in the way Brian’s head is tilted to the side and in the glint in his eyes, but he couldn’t say what. “I’d love that.”

He doesn’t want to think about the gentleness in Brian’s eyes, or the fact that he can’t decide what colour they are because he won’t dare to look at them for long enough, and he definitely doesn’t want to think about  _ why _ . So he doesn’t, just turns his attention back to the pan and decides he doesn’t have to think about any of this if he doesn’t want to. And, God, he’d rather do anything else.

“You can come closer, you know,” Brian gives him an encouraging smile. “Nothing here could hurt you or anything.”

Pat takes a reluctant step forward, walking out of the corner he’d hidden himself behind.

“It’s simple, look - can you pass me a jar from that cabinet over here please? Thank you,” he says, dropping a branch of lavender and a few nettle leaves in the empty glass jar Pat is handing him, before setting it on the counter. “Tina from down the road said she’s been having trouble sleeping lately, and both lavender and nettle have soothing properties so that will be good! I’ll make some moonwater overnight since it’ll be a full moon and I’ve ran out like, just a few days ago,” he grimaces. “ _ But _ I remembered to keep a stack of sigils for once!” he adds cheerfully, taking a carved piece of wood from a bowl and letting it fall into the jar. “Ta-daa! That’s one done. That was an easy one but see, it’s not that bad!”

“Could anyone do that?” Pat asks, curiosity taking over his initial reserve.

“Technically, yeah,” Brian turns to his right to face him and leans against the counter. “I mean, this is simple enough that anyone can do it, you just have to know the right ingredients and focus on your intentions and you should be good to go. There’s a few other kinds of magic though, more intricated, and in theory anyone could get to a certain level in them but there’s a big part that’s also like, innate ability.”

“Like how Jenna talks to animals?”

“Yeah, exactly!” he nods approvingly. “So can Laura and I, to a certain extent, but Jenna’s a natural, it comes to her a lot more easily. And, some people are naturally more resistant to any sorts of magic,” he shrugs. “That happens. Like, Allegra. She could make simple spells work, but it’d take a lot more time and energy so she usually doesn’t bother. She knows she can always ask us, anyway.”

Pat hums and they move on to the next spell, a bit more complicated, and Brian explains the properties of every plant and crystal he uses as they go along. Pat has to say, it's endearing to see how focused he can get when he's trying to get something right, and how he'll suddenly turn so passionate when talking about the secret uses he's found to some ingredients. 

“To come back to the portals,” Brian says after a little while. “I can pretty much confirm the obsidian you had with you played a big role in opening it for you but, obviously we’ve seen it doesn’t work the other way around. Which, uh, could make sense if you believe the theory there seem to be, that says that the obsidian will open the portal if that’s where you’re supposed to be. But, eh,” he lifts his hands in the classic  _ I-don’t-know _ motion. “Not sure that makes a lot of sense, like, why would you need to be here? So, yeah. I’m not convinced. And even if it was true, somehow, that wouldn’t help us open them back.”

“If obsidian won’t do it, could another gem work better instead?” Pat tilts his head to the side.

“Maybe,” Brian bites his lip, brows furrowed. “I thought the same thing, but I can’t think of anything that would make sense? I’m getting back a giant book I lent someone about crystals ages ago, though, so there could be something in there that I’m forgetting.”

Maybe Pat lets his disappointment shine through more than he realizes, because Brian gently shoulders him.

“Hey, doesn’t mean I’m giving up though! I said I’d get you home, and I will. I’m a man of my word,” he grins, and Pat breaks into a tiny smile. “I’ve got a few more leads too, just waiting to see if there’s anything to them before I waste your time with it. But I’ll let you know as soon as I have more info.”

“Thank you,” Pat’s smile grows a little more sincere. 

_ For everything _ , he wants to say.  _ I really don’t know what I’d do without all your help _ , he thinks.

“Sorry, I’m just tired,” he says. “I think I’ll go get some sleep.”

“Of course! It’s been a lot of information all at once, you should go and rest,” Brian ushers him out of the room. “Goodnight! Thanks for the help!”

“Goodnight,” Pat gives him a little wave as he goes up the stairs, and he ignores the tightness in his throat he doesn’t want to think about.

It easily turns into a routine, evenings spent cooking and either preparing spells or just chilling on the couch in front of the fireplace. Pat’s found he likes these moments more than he’d thought, he likes when they’re both busy and Brian is just quietly humming to himself as if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. He’s used to following a routine, and he doesn’t really mind that one.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, once, from a bad dream he forgets about the moment he opens his eyes and he lies there for a second until he decides he might as well go make himself some tea. He walks down the stairs, as quietly as he can, and is about to head to the kitchen when he hears some noise coming from the “witching room” as he calls it. He peeps through the door’s window and is a bit relieved when he sees it’s just Brian, but frowns when he notices the tension in his shoulders and the frustration in his voice, even if it isn’t louder than a whisper. He’s leaning on the table, over tarot cards and holding what looks like a pendulum, that he sets down after a second or two and runs a hand through his hair. 

He hasn’t seen Pat yet, facing the opposite way, so he walks back into the kitchen and puts some water to heat up while he looks through the ingredients he knows Brian keeps here, until he finds the jar of chrysanthemums he remembers having strong relaxing properties. He drops a handful of petals into the large cup he’s filled with hot water and sets it on the counter - he’s not worried about it going cold before Brian finds it, he was careful to pick a cup he knows is enchanted especially to keep that from happening - and heads back upstairs. It’s only once he’s lying in bed again that he realizes he forgot about his own tea but he doesn’t really mind enough to justify another trip downstairs.

He’s thinking about Brian, instead. He doesn’t know what time it is but it’s pitch black outside, so obviously way too late for him to be up and practicing magic. He thinks back to Laura saying how he was annoyingly good at most magic without even trying, and he wonders if anyone knows he’s up in the middle of the night to train. That makes his chest tighten a bit, before he forces his thoughts to take a different path.

Brian doesn’t mention it in the morning, but his smile is just a little brighter, just a little warmer than usual, and maybe it’s not all that bad, Pat thinks.

Pat has always been bad at telling when he’s overthinking things and when it’s just the reality, and he usually tends to assume the latter, just to be safe. So, naturally, when it feels like Brian’s getting more distant, because he’s not asking for his help as much and doesn’t come to sit on the counter while Pat cooks, he wonders what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t bring it up, figures that giving him more space is the best thing to do - he gets it, it’s been a solid three months since he showed up and Brian didn’t exactly sign up for that. He gets it, really. That doesn’t mean he can stop worrying about it. 

He’s pretty sure the others have noticed something’s off, but they’re kind enough to not talk about it if he doesn’t mention it first - and he won’t. Mainly because that would mean admitting that even if he  _ gets it _ , it still bothers him a bit. So instead of talking about it, he pretends everything is fine, trying just a little too hard to make everything seem normal.

He doesn’t think Brian has noticed until, after a few days, he comes back to a large crystal on his bedside table that he is fairly sure is lepidolite, and he sleeps better that night.

Brian’s still nice, of course, so completely kind in that way Pat still doesn’t know how to handle. He sees how he looks at him when he doesn’t think Pat will notice, and he does the same thing, stealing glances and averting his eyes just a second before Brian catches him. And there’s something in the way Brian laughs, just a little too loud to sound completely true, especially because Pat sees the expression that passes on his face whenever he tells him about some more information he’s found about the portals, expression that Pat couldn’t quite name but that tugs at something deep in his chest.

It lasts two or three weeks, and then it’s like Brian can’t keep his true nature at bay anymore and he just falls on the couch next to Pat and tells him about something dumb he did as a kid, and it feels like he’s slowly coming back, even if not to the point where they were before. He’s fine with that.

He brings it up to Jenna once, when it’s just the two of them on a walk through the woods now that everyone else thinks it’s too cold to stay outside, and she looks at him like she’s never heard anything more ridiculous.

“Well, yeah,” she says, eventually. “I mean, I- he’s close to figuring it out, isn’t he? How to get you home.” Pat nods. “So you’re… you’re going to leave, pretty much any day now.”

“I guess, yeah,” Pat frowns. “But that was always the case.”

“Of course, but it’s- it’s different now, you know? We’ve all gotten to know you now so when you leave, yeah, it’ll be weird for a bit. We’ll miss you,” she teases, lightly elbowing his arm,  and continues before he has a chance to react. “And Brian… yeah. He- he does that, sometimes, it’s a way to protect himself, I guess?”

“I was wondering if I did something wrong,” he admits in a chuckle.

“Oh no, you’d know,” she assures him quickly. “I think he just doesn’t want to miss you too much.”

She goes ahead to look at a flower piercing through the fallen leaves, and Pat has to stay behind for a second, his heart feeling like someone stomped on it repeatedly.

The conversation with Jenna keeps turning in his head as he goes back to Brian’s place after walking her home, because somehow he hadn’t fully registered that going back to his world meant he’d never see any of the people here again, and he’s feeling some type of way about it. Bad, mostly. And he doesn’t like it.

Obviously, he wants to go home, he wants to see his family, and Simone, and let them know that he’s okay, but- there is a but, and he hates himself for it, because there shouldn’t be anything else on his mind. But he likes this place, a lot, and as much as he does miss home, he’s noticed that the nagging little voice that used to always say he was missing out on something has gone quiet since he got here.

And he’s gotten used to living here, used to remembering to leave crystals out at night to get charged by the moonlight, stopping Zuko from drinking the moonwater, and hanging out with everyone.

He’s used to cooking for Brian and him, used to leaving calming tea on the counter when he finds him training in the middle of the night, used to the diffuse warmth in his chest when they’re both just sat together in front of the fireplace, or when Brian comes in the room complaining about something Zuko’s done, and then acts all offended when Pat inevitably sides with the cat instead of him before breaking into a fit of giggles, and the warmth in his chest shifts into a fire and Pat considers ripping his own heart out so he doesn’t have to think about it.

“It’s going to snow,” Brian chirps as a greeting as soon as he walks through the door.

“Yeah, Jenna said she heard foxes saying that as well,” he smiles. “It’ll be nice. I miss the snow.”

“First snow of the year is always good,” Brian says, and he sounds a lot more chipper than usual. “It’s a great night for spellcasting, so I’ll head outside for a bit.”

“Sounds good,” Pat hums. “Got time for dinner before that?”

“Actually! I wanted to help this time. I know you said you didn't mind doing the cooking but, still, it’s hardly fair."

"Oh, if you want then yeah, of course! You know it's not a problem, though, I do love to cook," he grins. 

"Ayy cooking time!" Brian claps excitedly. "I have no idea what to make though, I'm leaving you in creative control."

"Okay," Pat chuckles, Brian's enthusiasm contagious. "I'm thinking pizza maybe? Pretty sure we have everything for that." 

"Lead the way, my good sir," Brian does a flourish with his arm to invite him to step into the kitchen and Pat can’t help but roll his eyes as he does.

Brian’s easy to cook with, actually following instructions for once - except when he tries to get tomato sauce on Pat’s face, but that just backfires when he ends up getting it in his hair, somehow, and he pouts for a minute because Pat is making fun of him. But, mostly, he’s helping.

He jumps onto the counter as soon as the pizza is in the over and he’s wiped off the excess flour, swinging his legs like he always does, and Pat tries not to think about it as he leans back against the wall.

“Hey, I meant to ask,” he says, quickly glancing over to make sure the oven was on before looking back at Brian. “Uh, completely unrelated to cooking but I guess I never found the moment to ask and we have a bit of time before the pizza’s ready so, why do you always say that “worlds” isn’t really the correct term?”

“Oh,” Brian brushes the hair away from his face in a move that Pat knows gives him a second to think. “Well it’s- it’s pretty heavy stuff, I guess, but, uh, without getting too technical- “worlds” implies two completely different places? Like, other planets in space would count as other worlds, because they’re entirely separate from us, right? But where you come from and here it’s- practically the same thing.”

“Except for all the magic shit,” he raises an eyebrow.

“Except for all the magic shit,” Brian repeats in a short laugh. “And humans’ influences, obviously they’ve both developed quite differently but, all in all, you have to admit they’re pretty damn similar.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Pat nods, thinking back to the plants and constellations he recognized here. “What would you call it then?”

“Not sure,” he shrugs. “Dimensions, I guess? That’s the closest I can think of, the same place under different circumstances.”

Pat hums. “Makes sense, yeah.”

“I couldn’t explain it further than that to be honest, it’s a lot of just, semantics and heavy bullshit I like to explore even though I barely understand half of it,” he says with a bashful smile. “Also, I’m hungry so this better be ready soon.”

The abrupt change of tone makes Pat chuckle and Brian just, fucking, absolutely lights up at that, and Pat can’t deal with it, doesn’t know how to, so he lets his hair fall in his face and crouches next to the oven so he doesn’t have to look at him. 

“Any second now,” he says, and he’s so thankful his voice doesn’t waver. “You’d better get down, I’m going to need the space.”

Brian grumbles in complaint but jumps off the counter anyways and leaves the room to go clear the table, and Pat takes the opportunity to just breathe for a moment. He doesn’t know what got to him there, but it’s probably best to ignore it, lock it in a box and hide it in a corner of his mind, where there’s no chance of him accidentally stumbling upon it ever again.

He doesn’t say anything when Brian walks back in, just smile and gets the pizza out of the oven, cutting it up as Brian gushes over how good it smells.

He’d like to say he’s not quite sure how they ended up both on the floor in front of the lit fireplace, but Brian brought a bottle of wine when he came back from spellcasting in the snow, saying that it was “first snow tradition”, and of course Pat didn’t resist. He vaguely remembers Brian getting up after they finished the first bottle to bring back another one and sitting back on the floor with his back against the couch, but Pat doesn’t fully know how his head ended up on his lap. But Brian keeps playing with his hair, and he’s just drunk enough to not overthink how nice it feels, so he’s really not complaining. 

He doesn't remember being a particularly talkative drunk but, apparently he is, because he can't stop saying everything that comes to mind. 

"It's just- it's so… weird you know? I've been trying to go home for like, months, and now that it's getting closer I just… don't know how I feel about it. And I don't like it, it should be simple but it's just… not."

Brian’s voice is so soft when he answers that Pat honestly thinks he could cry right now. 

"It's just the habit, probably," he says, fingers carding through Pat's hair like it's the most natural thing. "Like, you've been here a while now, you just got caught in the rhythm of things and you got used to it, but it'll go away as soon as you go home. You'll forget all about us soon enough," he laughs a little, not quite a happy one. 

_ I won't _ , Pat thinks. 

_ I'm not sure where home is.  _

_ What if I can't get used to normal again?  _

He's still sober enough to not say any of these out loud. 

"Maybe," he says instead. "Probably not though. I don't really want to forget about the past six months, surprisingly."

Brian's chuckle sounds less melancholic this time, and Pat decides he likes that better. He doesn’t want Brian to be sad. 

"You know," he changes the subject, looking at the way Brian's eyes are reflecting the fire light. "For a while I couldn't tell what colour your eyes were." 

"Really?" he raises an eyebrow, and Pat hums. "Have you figured it out now then?" 

"Yeah, I think they're grey. Or blue. Or both?" he adds after a second. "What would that be? Grue? Bley?" 

Brian laughs again, he's somehow even more giggly than usual, and Pat finds himself obsessed with his laugh, how he lets it take his whole body like it's too powerful to be contained. Pat really likes to make him laugh, he thinks. 

"I do like bley," he says, his face still lit up, and maybe Pat gets lost in the crinkled around his eyes for a second. “I do like it a lot.”

"Sad that it's just a made up word," Pat shrugs. 

"All words are made up, Patrick, that's how languages work,” and he’s got that stupid smile on his face that ignites something in Pat’s chest, and it doesn’t help that Brian is still playing with his hair. “But, yeah, it kinda sounds like someone hit by a confusion spell. Laura let me try it out on her once, she forgot out to form words for a solid minute. It was hilarious. Never did it again, but that was good practice.”

“Talking about practice, how come you’re always up so late?” he asks, alcohol definitely loosening his tongue. 

Brian shrugs and averts his eyes for a second, and suddenly there’s a tug on Pat’s heart.

“Just have to stay on top of everything, y’know?” Brian says before he can react. “I don’t- I don’t want to disappoint people I guess, like, I don’t want to have to say “hey, sorry, I know you trusted me to be able to help you but I can’t, so good luck with that!” to someone who comes to see me. I just want to make sure I’m doing the best I can, and sometimes I- I just have to work harder in some areas to, like, keep it as good as the easier ones.”

“But you need rest too,” Pat frowns, lifting himself up on one elbow to look at him, and Brian’s hand falls from his hair to his shoulder. “Like, I- trust me, I know the pressure of feeling like you have to be giving 100% of what you can, all the time but you don’t… you don’t  _ have  _ to be the best at everything, you know? You’re- fuck, you’re so good at so many things already, you’re just… constantly blowing my mind, and nobody is expecting you to be an expert in every kind of magic. You’re already great at what you do, and you can always work on expanding your horizon - that’s super cool, always good to learn new things, etcetera etcetera - but just… please don’t let that be an excuse to do things that are bad for you. You deserve better than that.”

Brian just looks at him for a second, or two, like he’s searching for something in Pat’s eyes - and whatever it is he must’ve found it because a smile slowly blooms on his lips.

“Thank you,” he says in the most gentle voice that makes Pat feels like he’s about to start crying.

Pat doesn’t know what he’s going to say when he opens his mouth, but he jumps a little when Zuko abruptly pushes the window open and jumps inside, sending it banging against the wall, a gust of cold air following suit. Brian laughs at his reaction and softly tucks a strand of hair behind his ear before getting up to close the window while Pat is suddenly having a hard time catching his breath on the ground.. 

"I think we've had enough," Brian stretches and stifles a yawn. " _ I _ certainly need to get some sleep now."

"Yeah, me too," Pat says when he can speak again. "It's been a long day." 

"It really has," Brian grins. "First snow of the year is always eventful."

Pat smiles and they both say goodnight, and he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Neither of them mention it the next day, or the day after that, and there’s a pang in Pat’s chest he doesn’t know the meaning of. But Brian looks more well rested and relaxed, and Pat doesn’t see him up in the middle of the night again, so he’s happy enough about that to think it’s worth it.

There’s a sense of comfort between them that feels stronger the following week than it was before, but the odd look in Brian’s eyes gets more present as he gets closer to figuring out how to send Pat back to his dimension. His smile is still bright and gentle, though, so Pat doesn’t say anything, he figures he’s thinking about it too much, as always. And maybe they tend to sit closer on the couch than they used to, but it’s just because it’s so damn cold now, the heavy layer of snow on the ground not showing any sign of going anywhere. And maybe he’s actively trying to make Brian laugh more, but that’s just him being a good friend.

So he can’t really explain why it feels like someone’s ripped a hole in his chest when he comes back with Jenna one day, and Brian says he knows how to get him home. None of them looks as happy about it as they maybe should, but Pat plasters a grin on his face and pretends he doesn’t hear how fake he sounds when he says he’s excited, pretends he doesn’t feel like he’s bleeding his heart out.

“I’d just need a day or two to gather everything and, like, run a test or two so I don’t send you into the unknown,” Brian’s smile looks about as genuine as Pat here but neither of them say anything about it. “And then you’re all set.”

“I can tell the others to meet up tomorrow, so we can all hang out again before you leave, if you want?” Jenna suggests, softly putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Pat nods. “That’d be nice.”

“Okay, I’ll go do that then, see you tomorrow!” she says and turns to leave, hand lingering a second longer than necessary.

Brian looks like he’s about to say something before changing his mind, and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“I need to get some plants that bloom in the middle of the night,” he grimaces, “so, I’m going to get some sleep now.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea, you probably wouldn’t want to accidentally fall asleep in the cold,” he frowns. “Be careful, alright?”

Brian’s smile is warmer this time. “I will, promised.”

Pat watches after him as he goes up the stairs, before sighing and crouching down to pet Zuko’s head.

“Just you and me tonight, huh?”

Even Zuko’s weird meowing sounds less energetic than usual. He sighs again, stands back up and heads to the kitchen to fix himself something to eat.

It’s easy, just spending time with everyone, and for a while he almost forgets he’s never going to see them again. He sees the hint of concern in Jenna’s eyes, though, that he tries his best to alleviate with laughs and smiles. He’s fine. He'll miss them, all of them, he knows that for sure, but he's trying not to think about it too much. He doesn't want to ruin a good time by worrying too much again, if just for this one time he wants to make the most of it. He's only a little disappointed that Brian isn't here with them, but he gets that he has to prepare everything for tomorrow. They're not wasting any time. Besides, he's not sure how to act around him now, torn between wanting to go back to the easy comfort they'd fallen into, and knowing that it didn't matter anymore. He is leaving tomorrow.

It dawns on him when he realizes it's gotten late, suddenly, and he should probably head back, but he can't get himself to move for a moment. But he does, eventually, because he has no choice - stands up and hugs everyone goodbye, doing all he can to ignore the tightness in his throat.

Brian doesn't comment on the redness of his eyes when he walks through the door, just gives him a little smile and lets him head upstairs to get his things ready. Not that he has many, really, most of it were lent to him when he got there and he doesn't plan on going back with them.There's something new on the bedside table, though, next to the obsidian, another black stone wrapped in silver wire and mounted on a chain. He feels the tension he held melt away, even if just a little bit, and there's a smile that escapes him and blooms on his face as he takes the necklace, delicately, observing it for a minute before setting it back down. He loves it.

It’s early in the morning when Pat goes down the stairs with his backpack negligently hanging off his shoulder, the hint of the sunrise barely beginning to appear at the horizon. Brian doesn’t look like he’s gotten much sleep at all but it would be pretty hypocritical of Pat to comment on it, so he doesn’t. He’s wearing the necklace, a comforting and somehow vaguely familiar weight on his chest, and the brief grin Brian can’t hold back when he sees it makes this whole thing so much more difficult. But he doesn’t say anything.

They gather everything they need and head out, walking towards the forest, and every step feels heavier than the last, as if the snow was trying to stick to him, to hold him in place. Maybe he wishes it would.

“Are you excited to go home?” Brian asks, like he can’t stop himself.

_ I don’t know how I feel. _

“Sure,” he says. “It’s going to be weird, but I’m glad I get to see my family again.”

“They must’ve missed you,” Brian comments.

_ I’ll miss you _ .

“Maybe,” he shrugs with a smile. “I know I’ve missed them.”

“I bet,” Brian put his hands in his pockets and look up at the trees. “It’s been a while, huh? Almost over now.”

_ Maybe I want to stay. _

“It sure has been an adventure,” Pat shakes his head, closing his fist around the obsidian in his pocket.

He hates this, empty conversation that doesn’t go anywhere, all meaning hidden in pauses and silence and subtext, but it’s too late now. It’s too late to talk about the things Patcan’t say out loud, so he doesn’t, swallows back the words and stares at the ground. They keep walking, the quiet broken only by the sound of the snow crunching under their steps, and it’s painfully obvious how they’re both trying to avoid the other’s eyes. There’s a part of Pat’s mind, locked in a box somewhere in the depth of his head, that wants to escape and scream and tell him to stop, but he can’t (is afraid to) listen, so he pushes it back again and pretends he can’t feel it thrashing in the background.

It doesn’t take long before they reach a clearing that Pat recognizes as the one he came here from. They get to work, only talking when Brian explains what he needs to do, pouring the elixir over the mushroom ring as Pat places mini-bouquets of dried herbs and flowers alongside it.

“Well, there you go,” Brian says, putting the empty glass jar back in his bag. “You just have to stand in the circle and you’ll be on your way. Ready?”

_ No. _

“Yeah,” Pat breathes deeply, the necklace heavy around his neck. “I just want to say- thank you. For everything. I… yeah. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had just been on my own.”

“Of course,” Brian smiles, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It was nice meeting you, Patrick Gill,” he adds as Pat steps in the circle.

“You too, Brian David Gilbert.”

There’s a second of silence where nothing happens, and then Brian’s mask falls and his face crumbles, like he can’t pretend anymore, the raw pain in his eyes enough to make Pat wants to stop this, to get out of the circle and wrap him into a hug and never let go, but he blinks and he’s somewhere else. A perfectly circular clearing without any snow in sight. It takes him a second to adjust, like his brain doesn’t want to understand what happened, and then it hits him like a brick in the head.

He’s back.


	2. Part Two

The car is gone when he gets to the place he left it, as he expected, so he keeps walking, following the path until he finds the information center, where he says he’s gotten lost and borrows a charger to bring his phone back to life. He feels both completely numb and as if someone crushed his heart with their heel, repeatedly, but there isn’t much he can do about it now. So he tries to pull himself together, takes a deep breath, and calls Simone.

“Hello?” she answers, cautiously, like she’s not sure what to expect.

Like she doesn’t want to let herself have any hope. Pat feels like crying, but he doesn’t, he can’t.

“Hey,” he says, voice unsteady. “It’s me.”

“Patrick? Oh my God, Pat! Where are you? Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s all good,” he rushes to reassure her. “I’m… back at the forest? I don’t remember the name, but uh the one I told you about before all… all of this?”

“The one where they found your car?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she says quickly, and he hears keys clinking in the background. “Wait for me, okay? Oh my God, Pat, I- I’ll be right there, okay?”

“I’ll wait,” he promises. 

He gives back the charger to the guy at the desk and goes to sit on a bench, hiding the necklace under his shirt. And he waits. His mind is surprisingly quiet, empty, numbness taking over everything else, and he can’t bring himself to care. Maybe it’s better, he thinks, maybe if he tries hard enough he can forget about everything, maybe that would be better than the ghost of the pain in his heart that he knows will come back a lot stronger when his thoughts are clearer.

Simone runs towards him as soon as she gets there, throwing her arms around his neck, and he’s overwhelmed by a wave of guilt for making her go through that, even if he didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

“Are you okay?” she asks again, stepping back and looking at his face intently, like she’s trying to read him. “What happened? Where were you?”

“I’m fine, I promise,” he insists. “But I- I don’t know,” he nearly winces at the lie. “I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything.”

She’s the last person he wants to lie to, he wants nothing more than to sit with her and tell her everything that happened - but he can’t, he doesn’t see how telling the truth would be a good idea right now so, as much as he hates this, he doesn’t really have a better option here. It still leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

“Okay,” she says, “Alright. I’ve called the cops that dealt with your case so they’re ready to, like, see you whenever you’re ready. And then we should probably get you to a hospital.”

“I don’t need a hospital, Simone, really, it’s fine,” he insists, not expecting her to believe him.

“Except you don’t remember anything,” she raises an eyebrow, and he knows he’s lost that battle. “Have you called your parents yet?”

He shakes his head. “I just borrowed a charger long enough to call you, but my phone’s dead. And…” he hesitates. “And I didn’t- I didn’t want to call them alone.”

Her face softens and she brings him back into another hug, rubbing his back. “I get that, it’s okay. I’ll text them to let them know you’re back and safe, and that you’ll call them when you can.”

“Thank you,” he relaxes a little.

“Come on, let’s go. The sooner we get this over with, the better,” she takes him by the arm, leading him towards her car.

As she drives, she fills him in on what happened these last six months. His heart sinks when she tells him about the beginning, the first few days when he didn’t come to work, didn’t answer his phone, and his car wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and how she reported it, and the police had found his car near the forest but no trace of him. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth, but he listens to how his parents came to the city for a while when they heard about it, to be closer to the action in case anything new was found, but had to go back home after a month of complete silence.

They had to vacate his flat pretty quickly (“because your landlord’s an asshole, unsurprisingly,” Simone rolls her eyes.) so all his things are in a storage unit for now, but she assures him he can stay at her place for as long as he needs, and he’s very thankful for that. He hadn’t really thought about all the material and practical aspects of coming back after months of radio silence, and he’s already overwhelmed enough without having to figure out a place to crash right now. 

At the police station, Pat just repeats that he doesn’t remember anything after going into the woods (funnily enough, he feels a lot less guilty about lying to the cops) but that he feels fine, which he says probably ten times between there and the emergency room he’s sent to afterwards, until they say there is no sign of anything worrying and to keep challenging his memory to see if it gradually comes back over time, and they finally let him go.

He doesn’t realize how deeply tired he is until they get to Simone’s flat and he sits on a chair at the kitchen table, shoulders caving under the weight of the past day, and he has to resist the urge to lie down face-first on the floor for a little while or for eternity, somewhere between the two.

“I was going to order food,” she says, “the fridge is pretty empty. What do you think about tacos?”

“Sounds great,” he manages to give her a smile. “Just… get me the same thing you’re getting. I’ll call my parents in the meantime.”

“Works for me! You can borrow my charger,” she points to it in the corner before going in the other room.”

There are some tears on his parents’ side as he explains what he “remembers” - so, not much-, and he feels like he should be crying too, maybe, but he can’t. He just feels numb, a little overwhelmed, and profoundly exhausted. He tries to tell them that they don’t have to come see him, he’s fine, but he caves in quickly when it becomes obvious he’s not going to win. 

He really did miss Simone, he thinks as he listens to her talk about all the little things he wasn’t around for - he knows it’s her way of making sure he’s comfortable and not in too much of a shock or anything, and they’ll talk about it more later, but he feels a little bit better now. He finds himself smiling a little, even, when she tells him about the latest games she’s played that he  _ absolutely  _ needs to try, and he knows she’s noticed it because he sees the triumphant glint in her eyes.

It's difficult to fall asleep that night, despite how tired he is, he forgot how loud the city was even at night, and it takes a little while before he remembers how to tune it out and get his mind to focus on something else. 

His parents come to visit for a few days and he soon remembers why they’re only seeing each other a few times a year. He loves them, he really does, but they’re just a little overwhelming sometimes, pressing him with questions he can’t answer and scrutinizing every one of his movements like they’re trying to tell how he’s doing, which threatens to make him fall back into bad habits of desperately wanting to meet the impossible standards they’ve set. But he catches himself on time and remembers that he knows better than that now.

Still, he is a little relieved when they go back home, apparently reassured about his well-being.

He gets his job back - he suspects Simone helped, in addition to the union - and he just… throws himself into work. He says it’s to ensure the company sees that he can still be an asset despite everything - God, he fucking hates capitalism -, that it’s because he wants to get back into the rhythm of things. He barely admits to himself, when he’s crashing on the bed after working himself to exhaustion again, that it’s so he doesn’t have to face his thoughts, that he’s afraid of the path his mind would take if he started listening to it. He has to be a functioning human being, can’t let his feelings about something he’s supposed to have forgotten about get the best of him. So he doesn’t stop, doesn’t allow any time to pause and breathe, because he’s scared it would all come flooding out in a waterfall, and he can’t let that happen.

He tries to get used to the dark clouds looming in the sky above the buildings and skyscrapers again.

He can see Simone looking more concerned as time goes on and he doesn’t seem to slow down, so he does his best to take the time to hang out with her and show her that he’s okay. It helps, too, just spending time with her, makes his brain go more quiet for a little while, a short-lived rest he couldn’t be more grateful for right now.

He doesn’t sleep well, hasn’t had a full night of rest since he came back, so he’s gotten into the habit of making himself tea when he wakes up at 4am, and he stares at the empty cup beside his that he keeps setting up out of habit, until his eyes hurt and he forces himself to put it back and look away.

He hates those hours, when he’s awake without enough distractions to keep his mind from wandering off, constantly catching himself on the edge of a dangerous train of thought until he can’t think of something else, and he aggressively sets his cup into the sink before heading back to bed. He falls asleep listening to the rain sounds he plays on his phone to stay focused on anything else, and the same cycle repeats every night.

Tonight is not different, and he’s already annoyed when he wakes up to find the room pitch black again. He just stares angrily at the ceiling he can’t see, exhaustion too strong this time for him to even think about moving, and he wishes he could simply turn on his side and fall back asleep, but he knows it’s not that easy.

He misses everyone, of course, he misses how Allegra made him laugh and how Jenna would make fun of him while still giving genuinely good advice, and everyone else in the group. He just can’t stop thinking about how grey Brian’s eyes are, and how stupidly soft his hair was, and his stupid mustache- and he needs to stop thinking about it because suddenly his eyes are burning and he can’t let emotions get the best of him.

Because if he lets the gates open right now, he’s not sure he can get them to close again before the morning.

So he doesn’t, instead reaches around until he grabs his phone and headphones and puts music on, loud enough to drown out everything he wants to forget, until he finally dozes off again.

He dreams of a memory that night, of the time a squirrel had showed up on the windowsill of the living room and Brian had immediately dropped everything to get closer, slowly enough to not scare it away, absolutely gushing over it like it was the cutest thing he had ever seen. The scene basks in a golden glow from the late afternoon light, every detail crystal clear as he sees Brian getting the squirrel to get into his hand and immediately start climbing up his arm to settle in his hair, and Brian is just beaming at him. 

There are dried tears on his cheeks when he wakes up.

The dream haunts him until the evening, and he’s not quite sure how he’s made it so far without losing his entire mind. But he did, somehow, and now he’s agreed to bake macarons with Simone, currently debating what flavour they should go for.

“Ohhh, we’ve got lavender oil,” she grabs the small bottle from the shelf. “That could be really good with a blackberry filling maybe? I bought some preserves just the other day, so I’m assuming that’s a sign from the universe to do it.”

“Let’s go then,” Pat smiles. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint the universe over baking.”

They get to it, starting with the macaron batter - they make a mess sifting the flour, getting it all over the floor, but they get through it. They manage to make something that doesn’t look too bad so far and put them in the oven, moving on to the blackberry buttercream that goes considerably more smoothly.

“Hey, we’re not doing that bad!” Simone says cheerfully, putting the filling to chill in the fridge while Pat takes the cookies out of the oven, leaving them out to cool down.

“We just have to wait now,” he looks around. “And clean up this mess, maybe.”

“Oh, yeah, good point. Let’s do that. Oh, by the way,” she adds after a moment of cleaning up in silence, “did you buy that lavender oil? Because I don’t remember doing it.”

“Yeah, I did,” he wipes spilled buttercream from the counter. “I’ve- I’ve had some, uh, trouble sleeping lately so I’m making lavender tea to help. The oil is a good addition, to make it stronger” he shrugs. 

“Wouldn’t have picked you for a floral tea type,” she teases and he smiles a little. “Always lavender?”

He hums. “Yeah, lavender’s good, it’s nice for, like, relaxing and sleeping better and stuff. I think it works best paired with nettles but that just tastes bad, sorry.” He turns around to find Simone looking at him attentively. “What?”

“It’s just- You didn’t used to care about plants’ properties,” she says carefully, like she’s thinking about each word.

Pat’s brain just… immediately goes blank. He could make something up, say that he doesn’t remember why, or that he was simply trying something new, but by the time he catches up with what’s happening, he’s been quiet just a little too long for it to not be suspicious.

“Pat?” she insists, voice dropped to barely louder than a whisper. “Pat, talk to me.”

He slowly slides down against the counter until he’s sat on the floor, face hidden behind his hands, and the deep breath he takes is shakier than he would’ve liked it to - and for some reason, that’s what does it. 

The words come spilling out of his mouth and he can’t do anything to stop them, his voice raw and breaking multiple times as he tells her everything: the mushroom ring, the magic, the spells and potions and late night tea-making, until he’s barely coherent through his sobbing. Simone is kneeling next to him, rubbing his arm while he talks and talks and  _ talks _ , and he feels like he’s finally letting everything explode after repressing it for so long.

“You’re going to think I’m losing my mind,” he says finally, wiping his cheeks with a shaking hand. “That’s fine, I- I would too, but I have this fucking necklace that didn’t just- just appear out of thin air,” he tugs it from under his shirt, the black stone cold against his palm.

“I don’t,” Simone simply says.

“You d- You don’t?” he looks up in surprise, and he is taken aback by the compassion he can see in her eyes.

“No,” she repeats, “I know you’re not. Because I know that place, and the people you’re talking about.”

It takes him a second to realize what that implies, and he sits a little straighter.

“Wait, that was- that was you? Who crossed five years ago and got stuck here? Fucking hell,” he adds when she nods.

Simone lets out a little wheeze. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it for sure. So I- yeah, I know what you mean. Jesus, Pat, I wish you would’ve talked to me sooner, I could’ve helped.” 

She pats his shoulder and they sit quiet for a moment, Pat trying to catch his breath and stop sobbing for just- just one damn minute, until Simone speaks up again.

“So, Brian huh?”

“Yeah, Brian,” he laughs, the kind of laughter that only comes from knowing how deeply fucked up everything is. “Shit, Simone,” he blinks back the new surge of tears blurring his vision, “I think I’m- I’ve- fuck, I fell for him. Hard.”

“I know,” she sighs, letting him put his head on her shoulder. “I was- I- Me too.”

“Jenna?”

“How did you know?” she moves back a little, a surprised smile on her face.

Pat shrugs. “She seems like your type. And she’s pretty great.”

“Yeah,” Simone lets out a short laugh, a melancholic one. “Yeah, I bet she’s still pretty great.”

“Look at us,” Pat says, letting his head fall back against the counter behind him. “Two idiots, in love with people in another dimension.”

“Wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else,” she smirks before getting more serious. “God, that’s my biggest regret about everything. Never telling her. And, even after five years, I never really could get over her. I mean, I’ve made my peace with it, had to try to move on at some point and I- I guess I have, in some way. But I still- I still think about her.”

“What a fucking mess,” he mumbles.

“I hear you, man,” she says, interrupted by the timer they’d set. “But the world doesn’t stop for us, and we have macarons to finish,” she stands up, offering him her hand.

Pat grins, more widely that he could have before, and wipes his cheeks on his sleeve one last time, before accepting her help getting up.

“Let’s get these over with, I’m hungry.”

He moves in with Simone, officially, just two weeks later - he’s given up on finding anything else that would suit him, and frankly he doesn’t know why he was so adamant on it in the first place. Simone is nice to live with, fun and comfortable to be around, and they know to give each other enough space so they don’t get on each other’s nerves. Maybe “moving in” is a bit of an exaggeration anyway, all they did was get some of his things that were still in the storage unit and make his bedroom more, well,  _ his  _ instead of just a guest room he hung out in.

Things are better over the next couple of months, he’d like to say. And, sure, they’re better than the first days after he got back, when he was so overwhelmed he nearly completely shut down, but they’re also a lot worse than back in the magic dimension. And he wouldn’t have thought it possible, but they’re even worse than before all of this happened, because if he used to get that little annoying voice telling him he was missing something, now he knows exactly what he’s missing and it hurts infinitely more, dull pain in his chest that never really goes away no matter what he does. 

And it’s not anyone’s fault, sometimes he can even see that it isn’t his fault either, that he’s doing the best he can considering the situation, but it still feels like he’s failing and falling behind as everyone else moves on, days blurring into weeks as he slips back into a somewhat comforting but bitter routine.

It’s easy to just go through the motions and pretend he’s okay with it, easier than to admit there’s something wrong that he doesn’t know how to fix.

It’s easy to say he’s not affected by the bad weather and the way the sky is constantly filled with dark grey clouds, easy to pretend he doesn’t start to forget how the sun felt on his skin.

It’s easy to make his way in the crowded streets when he doesn’t think about it, just mindlessly following the movement to his destination, until he sees something that makes the world stop in its tracks for a second.

Until he sees Brian.

He’s just standing there, on the middle of the sidewalk, in front of him amongst the flow of people. His hair is longer, Pat notes, and his next thought is that it’s a very weirdly realistic dream he’s having, but Brian fucking beams at him and his heart  _ aches  _ because he knows, instinctly, this is real. He just doesn’t know how, and doesn’t know how to react as Brian walks towards him.

“Hey,” he says quietly when he’s close enough. “Long time no see, huh?”

“How are you- How are you here?” Pat stammers, still unable to wrap his head around the fact that this is happening. “Did you-” he cuts himself off when he realizes they’re still very much in public and maybe talking about magic portals isn’t really the best idea.

Brian must catch on to what he’s thinking, because he raises an eyebrow and asks if there's anywhere more quiet where they could talk.

"Yeah, there's a, uh, a coffee place not too far from here that should be a good place to discuss... all of this," he says, vaguely gesturing to indicate the whole situation.

"Sounds good to me," Brian smiles and, god, Pat missed the warmth of his smile so much it's pathetic.

They walk side by side for a few minutes, Pat trying to get over the idea of Brian existing in his dimension, until he notices how Brian seems to be curled up on himself, wide eyes scanning through all the people around, in a way that Pat knows all too well. He doesn't know what to say, simply takes a discreet step closer so his arm just barely brushes against Brian's - and maybe that's enough, he thinks when he sees the quick glance he gives him, full of kindness and gratitude. Maybe that’s enough.

They both order a coffee when they get to the café, and sit in a corner booth in the back of the room, away from most of the other people there.

"So," Brian places his hands around his cup, and for a second Pat can't take his eyes away from the purple polish on his nails. "I guess I'll start, stop me if you have questions? If that works?"

"Yeah, okay," Pat nods, "I wouldn't know where to start."

"Thought so," Brian flashes him a grin before getting more serious. "Alright, so. After you crossed, the portals closed again. Not entirely sure why, honestly, but they did, and even my spell didn't work anymore. So I had to figure out something else."

"Wait," Pat interrupts him, frowning. "Why, though? I mean- I get they can be convenient, but why go through all the trouble?"

He would swear Brian's face goes a little red, suddenly, but it's probably just the warmth doing that. He has to consciously tear his eyes away from the curl his hair is making on his forehead and look at him directly - which is a bad idea, because the low lights are making the grey of his eyes shine in a way that makes Pat feel like he's been shot in the chest.

"Just," Brian shrugs, "you know. It's useful to have the portals opened. Just in case we need to use them. And it's nice to know how you guys are doing over there."

"Oh, yeah. Makes sense. Sorry for cutting you off," he smiles apologetically.

"Don't be! But, yeah. That took a while, finding a way to keep them open permanently, but I made it! They're way more stable now, too, enough to go back and forth as much as anyone wants.”

"That's awesome, wow," Pat can feel his eyes go wide. "I'm- honestly, I'm impressed."

"Thank you," Brian laughs and there's a familiar warmth spreading across Pat's chest. "Laura helped, I have to admit, it would've been a lot harder without her."

"I imagine, yeah," Pat can't stop himself from grinning. "Oh! Wait, hang on, I have an idea. Just- wait for me a second? I need to make a phone call," he says quickly, scrambling to stand up.

“Okay,” Brian raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good! I’ll be right back!” he promises, rushing to get just far enough that Brian couldn’t hear, phone already pressed against his ear.

“Hello?”

“Simone! Guess who I’m with,” he interrupts her, unable to hide his excitement.

“Jeez, I don’t know,” Pat can tell she’s rolling her eyes, “Mike from accounting?”

“Mike from- Why would I be with Mike from accounting, and why would I call you if I was?”

“I don’t know, you put me on the spot!” she protests. “Who is it, then?”

“Brian,” he just says.

“Brian, like… your Brian?” The shock in her voice is almost strong enough for him to not react.

Almost.

“Shut up,” he says, ears burning. “But, uh, yeah. He’s here. Thought you might want to come say hi.”

“Are you kidding? Where are you?”

He smiles as he gives her the address and hangs up after she confirms she’ll be there in a few minutes. 

Brian gives him a curious look when he sits back down.

“You’re not going to say anything, are you?”

“And ruin the surprise?” Pat raises an eyebrow. “Never.”

“That’s fair,” he lets out a chuckle. "Oh, you're wearing the necklace!" he adds when his eyes fall on the gem hanging from his neck. 

"Ah, yeah," Pat closes his hand around it in a grounding gesture that has quickly become a habit. "I always have it on."

“I'm glad you like it," Brian grins." So, what have you been up to?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

_ I missed you, _ Pat doesn’t say.

“Not much,” he shrugs. “Just got back into the old routine, I guess. It’s a lot less fun out here,” he adds, and there’s a bitter half smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He sees something pass in Brian’s eyes and he looks like he’s going to say something before changing his mind, and Pat is about to ask if everything’s alright when Brian changes the subject and tells him about everyone else back on the other side of the portal. They chat for a while, Pat desperately trying to pretend this is a normal situation and he’s not internally screaming, until Brian trails off in the middle of a sentence and Pat sees his gaze moves past him and his jaw go slack for a second before his entire face lights up.

“Simone?” he stands up slowly.

He barely has the time to take two steps before Simone has crossed the distance separating them and throws her arms around his neck and Brian laughs, and Pat feels like his heart has grown three sizes. They step apart after a few seconds and sit down, Simone sliding next to Pat.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Brian says, amazement in his voice.

“I can’t believe  _ you’re  _ here!” she replies. “I thought that, with Pat back, the portals would stay closed again. But you couldn’t let it go, huh?” she adds, teasing.

Pat feels like if Brian’s eyes could shoot out daggers, they would.

“You know me, can’t resist a magic mystery,” he chuckles, cheeks red.

Pat quickly loses track of time as they talk, Brian getting Simone up to date with everything that happened back home, and Pat adding his own anecdotes about everyone he hasn’t had a chance to tell her about yet, and it’s the most at home he’s felt since he came back.

They head back to Simone and Pat's place after a while because it's getting late, order pizza and continue hanging out until deep into the night. Brian is leaning against him and mindlessly playing with his hand as he laughs, and Pat sees the way Simone is looking at them but, right now, he just wants to enjoy the moment without thinking about the implications of all of it. Maybe, just for this time, he can allow himself to lightly run his fingers through Brian's hair when he puts his head on Pat's shoulder. 

Simone is the first one to call it a night and waves them goodbye before heading to her room, and Pat lets out a loud yawn. 

"You should get some sleep too," Brian nudges him softly. 

Pat groans. "But I don't want to move," he complains. "I'm too tired."

"Then don't," Brian shrugs. "Pretty sure that couch is big enough for two if we can manage to unfold it." 

"Ooh, tempting." 

"Nice, it's a sleepover!" Brian claps in excitement and Pat has to bring a hand to his lips to muffle his laugh. 

He sets up the couch with the covers and pillows they got out earlier, while Brian leaves the room for a second and comes back, throwing him a pair of sweatpants. 

"Thanks," Pat says, failing to catch them and picking them up from the floor, ostensibly ignoring the amused look on Brian's face. 

Brian goes into the bathroom first, and Pat tries his best not to focus on the way his sweatpants fall on his hips when he walks back into the living room.

It hits him as he's brushing his teeth, that all of this is really happening and that Brian is really there, that the portals are stable enough to be crossed at will, and he has to stop himself before seriously entertaining the idea of going back whenever he wants because it sounds too good to be true.

Brian is looking through the bookshelves when he comes back, and Pat yawns again and immediately get under the covers, giving up on trying to resist how tired he is. He sees Brian walk over to the other end of the wall to switch off the lights, and he hears him swearing under his breath as he makes his way in the sudden darkness.

“Hey,” he says when he crashes on the mattress, and Pat’s eyes have adjusted to the lighting change enough that the faint glow coming from the window lets him see Brian’s face quite clearly when he shifts to lay on his side.

“Hey,” he smiles back.

“I missed seeing your little beard patch,” Brian says, reaching out to poke it. 

_ I missed you _ , Pat doesn’t say.

“It looks stupid,” he just shrugs.

“It doesn’t! It’s very endearing,” Brian protests and pokes him again.

He giggles when Pat raises his hands in surrender and they continue chatting for a little while, both lying on their side and facing each other, and Pat keeps getting distracted by the way the blue-tinted light from outside is softly highlighting Brian’s curls.

“So, how’s it been, being back here?” Brian asks.

“Not too bad, I guess,” he scratches his nose. “Took some time to get used to the different rhythm and everything and, honestly it’s still in progress, but,” he shrugs.

“Can’t be harder than the other way around though, probably.”

“You know, it surprisingly is,” he chuckles quietly. “It’s just- it’s just really weird, after everything that happened, to just pretend everything’s fine and normal.”

_ And I miss you _ , he doesn’t say.

Actually, fuck that.

“And I miss you,” he adds, immediately averting his eyes so he’s not looking at him.

“Oh?” Brain says, and Pat really shouldn’t be surprised by the gentleness in his voice anymore but it still sets a wave of warmth rolling in his chest. 

“Yeah,” he looks up to see the smile on Brian’s face, so kind it is painful. “Yeah, I miss you. A lot.”

He’s not sure if that’s still what he’s talking about at this point.

“I like you too, Patrick,” he says like it’s the simplest thing in the world and Pat feels like he might just instantly combust. “Hey, it’s okay,” he giggles, reaching out to brush some hair out of his face, and his fingers linger just a second longer than necessary.

“Well that’s- that’s- good to know? God, sorry, I’m being stupid,” he can’t help but laugh a little. “Just give me- give me a second.”

Brian’s expression is nothing but tender when he smirks again and tells him he’s not going anywhere, and Pat just wants to scream for an hour or two before he realizes there’s a better thing he can try.

“Can I kiss you?”

Brian looks like he’s about to just melt into the mattress, breaking into a beaming grin like he can’t hold it back.

“Please do.”

Pat props himself up on his elbow to lean in and close the distance between them, and there’s hair in his face but Brian’s lips are impossibly soft against his and he doesn’t care about anything else, right now.

"About damn time," Brian pretends to complain when they move apart, before placing a kiss on Pat's nose when he rolls his eyes. 

And Pat feels like they should talk about this, whatever this is, feels like they need to figure out what they're doing, but he's tired and he doesn't want to think, just wants to appreciate the moment as it is. 

“You should get some sleep,” Brian says, brushing hair away from his face. “You look exhausted. No offense,” he giggles.

“No, you’re right,” he sighs. “Can we talk in the morning?”

“Sure,” Brian brushes his thumb against Pat’s beard and Pat is pretty sure that his heart is going to burst out of his chest if he keeps this up. “We’ve got all the time we need.”

He sleeps better that night that he has in months.

He wakes up to voices and dishes sounds coming from the kitchen and the curtains drawn closed. He stretches before standing up, neck popping loudly, and heads to the next room where he finds Simone and Brian in deep conversation over a cup of coffee.

“Hey,” Brian beams at him as soon as he walks through the door.

Pat sees Simone biting back a smile from the corner of his eye and he can tell she knows and will tease them endlessly, and he’s not awake enough to have his inhibitions back just yet, so he drops a kiss on the top of Brian’s head as he goes past to get to the coffee machine. He can’t hold back a grin when he hears him splutter behind him and turns around in time to see Simone rolling her eyes at them.

“What did I interrupt?” he asks, sitting down, and hides a chuckle in a cough when Brian kicks him under the table.

“I was just thinking,” Simone starts, “now that the portals are stable, I… I could go home. I’m not sure what to do yet,” she adds, quickly, “but that’s an option I didn’t have before and, honestly? It’s a tempting one. I have to think about it.”

It feels like a hit in the chest but Pat takes it without letting how it is affecting him show, because it shouldn’t. He thought about it too, maybe against his better judgement, that she didn’t have to stay here and she could just leave if she wanted to, but he didn’t quite register it as an actual possibility until right now.

“That’s fair enough,” he smiles and it’s not completely forced. “I know you miss everyone.”

Her expression goes soft, a melancholic look in her eyes.

“I do, a lot. But I’d miss you if I left,” she puts a hand on his shoulder.

Everything is way too heavy for this early in the morning, he decides.

“Ah, that makes this awkward, I was about to say I wouldn’t miss you at all.”

He ducks to avoid the hit she’s sending his way and Brian laughs, and the subject shifts to wondering what they should do today - it’s Saturday so none of them has to work, and they have all the time to do whatever they want. Simone has a few errands to run before the afternoon so they agree to meet up for lunch at a nice grilled cheese place she found a while back. In the meantime, Pat is just going to show Brian around a few places.

They mostly stay away from crowded places because he noticed how Brian looked uncomfortable when surrounded by too many people and he’d rather avoid that - he’s not too much of a fan either, anyway. So he shows him the corners and places that people don't know as much, minuscule parks and hidden art galleries. Brian takes his hand in his at some point, and Pat is definitely awake enough now that he almost trips on his own feet, but Brian is sweet enough not to point it out. He can't get enough of the look on Brian's face as he sees all these new things, a mix of star-struck and confused that reminds him so much of himself when he moved here, and it's infinitely endearing.

They're sitting on a bench under a large tree when Pat finally musters up the courage to talk about what's been on his mind since last night. 

“So,” he clears his throat, “what do we do now?”

There must be something in his expression that gives away that he’s not talking about the next stop in their city adventure - besides, they should head to the grilled cheese place soon enough - because Brian immediately knows what he means.

“Well, I like you, a lot,” he says, and there’s a fuzzy feeling spreading in Pat’s chest, “and I take it you like me too, at least a little,” he lifts up his hand, fingers still interlocked with Pat’s, and chuckles when Pat elbows him in the ribs. “So, I mean, depends on what you want to do? I mean, personally I would really like to be your boyfriend but, you know, that’s up to you.”

“I would really like that too,” Pat quietly says with a smile, and Brian’s the one to kiss him this time.

“We’ll have to figure out the multi-dimensions problem, though,” he whispers and Brian laughs against his lips, before moving away.

“Now that the portals are more reliable, you can come by whenever you want,” he suggests.

Pat hums. “I guess, yeah. I just- I’m not sure I want to say here,” it’s harder to admit than he would’ve thought. “Especially if Simone leaves too.”

Brian’s hold on his hand tightens a little and it eases the tension in his shoulders slightly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Brian says, voice is gentle as always, and Pat is starting to get used to the wave of feelings that washes over him.

“Yeah, I do, just… not now? If you don’t mind?” Pat rubs the back of his neck.

“Of course, whenever you want,” his eyes are filled with nothing but patience and kindness and Pat wants to cry, suddenly.

“Thank you,” he smiles instead, before standing up. “We should go join Simone, before we’re late.”

“Oh, yeah, she’ll be so annoying if she gets there before us, let’s go.”

They don’t talk about it again, the three of them enjoying the day and just hanging out and laughing together, but Pat brings it up again later in the evening when Simone’s gone to sleep and Brian and him are lying on the unfolded couch - Pat really doesn’t have an excuse for not going into his room this time, except that he’s lazy and maybe he likes sharing a bed with Brian.

“I hate how sad this is going to sound,” he says, looking at the ceiling instead of Brian because he’s honestly too embarrassed to, “but, like, apart from Simone I don’t- I’m not exactly close with anyone here, you know? And it’s the same back home, my old friends and I kind of fell out over time.”

“You told me you weren’t really close to your family either, right?” Brian asks.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I mean, like, I still talk to them and go home for Christmas most years, but I don’t call them every week or whatever. And I’m- I’m fine with that, really, I’m used to it and I don’t mind, it’s just- it was different in your dimension, you know?” he glances at Brian for the first time and almost gets distracted by the way his eyes are shining in the faint light coming from the window.

“You looked like you were getting along well with everyone,” he nods.

“Yeah, that was new,” Pat laughs a little. “But I- I guess I kinda got used to it? And coming back here it was hard, and weird, to be back with just Simone and a few coworkers who drink too much when we go for a beer. And, fuck, you know I love her to death, but I do miss the group too.”

Brian hums, like he’s thinking. “I mean, you can always come with us,” he says eventually. “Now or later or- whenever you want, you’re always welcome. I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, but like if you- if you want to then, I mean… we’d be glad to welcome you back. Zuko misses you,” he adds with a smile.

“Oh, he does?” Pat chuckles quietly.

“Yes! He’s being even more annoying than usual,” he whines, “and he gets angry with me when I stop him from misbehaving. I’m sure that’s your fault for always taking his side.”

“You’re just jealous he prefers me.”

“Maybe,” he crosses his arms on his chest. “So what?”

“That’s cute,” Pat just says, reaching out to ruffle his hair and place a kiss on his cheek.

Even in the relative darkness he can tell Brian is blushing, and the warmth in his chest comes back when he thinks about how Brian is the most open out of both of them but how he’s still so easily flustered whenever Pat takes the initiative.

“You have time to think about it, anyway,” Brian says, “You don’t have to make any decisions right now.”

“That’s true,” Pat relaxes a little.

“And talk to me,” he reaches out to tuck a lock of hair behind Pat’s ear, “or Simone. Don’t get stuck in your head.”

“I will,” he smiles. “Promise.”

“Good! It’s getting late now, though,” Brian yawns. “I’m going to sleep. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Brian stays here for another few days, and Pat is slowly getting used to being around him again and it’s… intoxicating, in a way, he can’t get enough of his laugh and his reactions to new things he sees. Brian goes to explore some more by himself while Pat and Simone are at work, and maybe Pat is a little worried but Simone catches him during lunch break and he ends up telling her all about the questions he has in mind.

“It’s your choice, in the end,” she says after he’s done. “You’re the only one who can know what’s best for you. But if you did decide to leave it wouldn’t be like last time,” she adds, nailing what he’s most worried about. “You could tell your family you’re moving, I don’t know, to the countryside, hell, to another country if you want, and just come back here for Christmas and birthdays and whatnot. I’m sure Brian and I could find you a spell to make phones work, he might be a more powerful witch than me and I’m a little rusty, but I know technology better than him.”

“You think so?”

“Pat, if he found a way to open the portals after they’d been closed for years, I think he’d do anything if it’s for you,” she flashes a grin. “He’s been like that as long as I can remember, doing anything he can to help, but never as much as with you. You must be special,” she wiggles her eyebrows, making him laugh. “No, seriously, I’m happy for you two. And whatever you decide to do, I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you, Simone,” he brings her into a hug. “I’m glad you’re here. What are you going to do, then? You’re going?” he asks after stepping back.

“Yeah,” she nods. “I mean, this has been fun but I- I miss home, and my old friends and my family there, you know? I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance of going back, and now… I can’t just not take it and stay.”

“I understand, yeah. Excited to hear about you and Jenna,” he raises his eyebrows and laughs again when she hits his arm.

“Oh wow, funny how I have to go back to my desk suddenly, bye!” she says quickly, rushing out of the room.

He knows the feeling.

He thinks about it for a few more days, Brian has been here for a week now, before he realizes the answer should have been obvious to him.

“I’ve decided,” he says, showing up behind Brian without a warning. 

“Fuck, Patrick, you scared me,” Brian turns around, a hand dramatically on his chest.

“Sorry,” he pouts apologetically. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Brian rolls his eyes, a fond look on his face. “What is it going to be then?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Really?” Brian’s face lights up.

“Yeah!” Pat can’t help but smile back. “I mean, it’s not like I have much tying me here honestly, as long as I can come back from time to time I won’t be missing out on much. And, come on, who wouldn’t want to live in a magical world when given the chance?”

Brian laughs and tugs on his collar, getting him to lean down so he can kiss him, and Pat can feel him grinning widely against his lips. 

“I’m so excited,” he says when he steps back. “You have to go tell Simone, she’ll be so happy about it! She was a little nervous about leaving without you.”

Simone does sound relieved and glad to hear it, and points out that they have a lot of logistics and administrative stuff to deal with, so they get to it - nothing has ever felt quite as freeing to Pat as quitting his job and knowing he doesn’t have to worry about another one as quickly as he can, and not having to make rent and bills every month.

Brian goes back before them and says he’s going to start working on that phone spell, while they sort out the last details of moving out of their flat and giving away the furniture and various objects and things they don’t plan on bringing over - it’s exhausting, Pat can’t lie, both physically and mentally, but it’s exhilarating too, and at least this time he’s prepared for the change and it’s his own choice. He calls his parents and his sister, tells them he’s moving out of the city to a small town deep in the countryside, and he stays vague so it’s not lying, not really. He tells them he’s tired of the poor air quality and the shitty weather, and at least he’s completely honest in that.

Eventually, comes the day when they’re ready to leave, they’ve got their bags packed and the extra money they won’t need donated to charities and people’s fundraisers for healthcare bills and transition costs, and Simone takes his hand and smiles as they step in the mushroom circle. Pat closes his eyes.

And opens them in a clearing he’s starting to be familiar with. He blinks a few times to get adjusted to the light and glances over at Simone, who is looking around, a quiet sense of wonder on her face. She starts walking without waiting for him, pace getting quicker with every step she takes down the path amongst the trees, and she’s almost running by the time she gets to the village. Pat gets hit by a strong sense of déjà-vu as he follows her to the town’s square and sees Jenna with a bird on her shoulder. She notices him first and goes to say hello, before her eyes fall on Simone, who froze next to him and is just looking at Jenna like she’s seen a ghost.

“Simone? Is that you?”

“Hey, Jenna,” she says, voice hoarse.

Brian walks up to him just as Jenna steps forward to bring her into a hug and Pat isn’t quite sure if they’re laughing or crying.

“You didn’t tell her?” he asks.

“Thought she’d appreciate the surprise better,” Brian shakes his head. “I’m not even sure she would have believed me, anyways.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Oh, I do know. Don’t pretend you don’t love it,” he smiles, and Pat decides he hates him.

“Shut up,” he says, but that just makes Brian laugh.

There are more people coming in now, and Simone is definitely crying as she hugs everyone, Jenna staying next to her, and Pat and Brian decide to give her some more time to say hello before walking up to her. She brings Pat into another hug as soon as he is within arm’s reach, and he can only chuckle and rub her back for a moment until she calms down a little and steps back, wiping her cheeks on her sleeve. 

“Sorry everyone, you’ve broken Simone,” he says. “Come back in two to three business days, she should be fine by then. You know what, nevermind, she’s well enough to try to hit me,” he adds when she punches his arm, and everyone laughs.

He says hi to a few people he recognizes vaguely, and of course the whole group is there and welcomes him back with embraces and smiles, and he’s chatting with Clayton about what he’s missed when he feels something brushing against his leg. He glances down to see Zuko expectantly looking up at him, and he grins and picks him up.

“Ah there he is, the one I have missed the most,” he scratches the cat’s head and is rewarded with loud purrs.

“I told you you were his favourite,” Brian groans next to him.

“Brian, no offense but I’m fairly sure everyone is Zuko’s favourite compared to you,” Laura shouts from just a little further away.

Brian looks so offended by that comment that Pat just laughs and drops a kiss on the top of his head, electing a wave of “ooooh” from the people around.

“Gross,” Allegra complains. “You’re not allowed to be that cute, get out of here.”

Brian winks at her and pecks Pat on the cheek, making her flip him off. Pat sees how Simone tucks a strand of hair behind her ear while she talks to Jenna, her cheeks just slightly tinted pink, and he knows in his heart, that he’s made the right choice and he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be right now.

It’s only been three weeks, but it’s so much easier to fall back into the routine here, because it’s one he actually likes, that feels comforting and still allows time for change and flexibility, and Pat feels like he can breathe again, better than he has in a while. He loves being back to putting herbs to dry and lighting candles to cleanse the room, even chasing after Zuko when he decides to steal a crystal. He likes being back to cooking with Brian and going on walks in the woods with Jenna, taking in the sun while she tells him about the plants and what the animals are saying.

He keeps an eye on Simone and her, discreetly, sees how they’re growing closer and more comfortable with each other, and he doesn’t say anything but Simone still tells him to shut up and let her be a mess in peace. Which he does, gladly. He’s just happy to see her thriving and being a gay disaster, she deserves it.

Brian and her have found a spell that allows him to use his phone and charge it like he charges crystals, using the sunlight.

It takes another week and multiple pep-talks from Pat and Brian before she decides to make a move, and of course Jenna beats her to it on the exact same day - and no-one will let her live down the way Jenna said “it was cute, seeing you dancing around the subject but I had to take pity on you” after she told her she liked her. 

"Do you remember when you arrived here?" Brian asks. 

They're sitting on the couch, Pat reading a book about wild plants and their uses, with Brian’s head on his knees while he's practicing spell weaving by intertwining a thin rope in complicated patterns around his fingers. 

"That's not really an easy moment to forget," he lowers his book to look at him. "Why?"

Brian shrugs, unwinding the rope. "Just wondering if, like, it was as confusing and stressful as when I crossed to find you." 

"Probably," he says after thinking for a second. "For different reasons maybe. Like, I didn't expect to cross at all so, that was quite something, and then there was the whole… magic and different dimensions thing that fucked with me for a while. But finding yourself alone in such a big city all of a sudden couldn't be fun either."

"Yeah," Brian snorts, "that wasn't great. But honestly, even if I was prepared to cross, it was still so disorienting and just...  _ weird _ . Like, like my brain didn’t want to accept it, even though I knew for a fact it was real.”

“You can say that again,” Pat laughs a little. “Going back was the same for me. But you do start to get used to it by the third time.”

Brian meets his gaze and giggles. “I bet.” He pauses for a few seconds, and his voice is lower when he speaks again. “Was it worth it?”

In a flash, Pat thinks back to how he was welcomed with open arms the minute he arrived and how everyone did everything they could to make things easier for him, to the moments he spent with them - the witches telling him about their specialties and the other non-witches showing him around and explaining how things worked, and the time they all just hung out together. And he thinks back to quiet nights, muffled laughter, and bright eyes shining in the dim light, and he knows his answer.

“More than worth it,” he brushes hair away from Brian’s forehead, and smiles again as a ray of late afternoon sunshine comes through the window, falling on Zuko asleep on the other chair.

Brian beams at him, taking his hand to place a kiss on it, in that completely gentle way that still makes Pat feels like his heart is going to jump out of his chest. 

Definitely more than worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
I had so much fun with this story, I've had this idea in my head for a while but it was never the right time to write it, so I'm glad I finally got to do it, and I'm honestly quite proud of it.  
I hope you liked it, do feel free to leave a comment, and you can find me on twitter @wavydanrises or @croissantbleu_ ! <3

**Author's Note:**

> i apparently have a tendency to let fics get out of my hands so, here we are! english isn't my first language so i did my best, apologies for any mistake i could've missed  
this is my very first polygon fic and i've been working on it for a while, so i hope you'll like it! part two will be up next week, feel free to give me feedback in the comments, or on twitter either @wavydanrises or @croissantbleu_ (the second one is locked because i'd rather irls didn't have access to it but i do accept pretty much everyone)
> 
> shoutout to pallavi for listening to me ramble at length about this fic in DMs and beta'ing this, you're a legend ily


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